by Diane Capri
Mandy released a strangled groan.
“What?” Jess rolled up to the barrier and rummaged in her bag for singles.
“She could have done anything, gone anywhere. Where do I start?”
Jess slipped bills into a slot in the parking machine. “I don’t know. She was financially well off. She must have done something besides read trashy magazines and eat bonbons.”
The barrier rose, and she drove out, easing the Mustang onto the side of the road out of the flow of traffic. “Did she go anywhere unusual? Any changes in her routines?”
“What do you expect to find that the cops didn’t?” Mandy was already clicking away at the computer keys.
“I wish I knew.” Jess ran her hands through her hair. “Her husband’s life was scrutinized down to his underwear preferences. Hers, not so much.”
“Why not try her neighbors? Or her friends?”
“I need all the help I can get. Try a few high-end restaurants. Or bars, manicure places, fashion boutiques, or—”
“Santa Irene has three-quarters of a million people, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks, Mandy. This situation just doesn’t make sense, and I’m getting nowhere. I need a fresh approach.” Jess pulled out into traffic. “I owe you.”
Mandy laughed. “You know how I love a challenge.”
Jess fed Dr. Warner’s home address into the Mustang’s navigation system and set off toward the outskirts of the city.
The area was filled with million dollar homes inside the city. Trees lined the streets, giving shelter to the sidewalks from the blazing Arizona sun.
His was a modern property on the side of a hill, toward the top of a long gradual slope. A wide single-story building set well back from the road. Large windows dominated the front, presumably to take advantage of the view, which Jess had to admit was pretty good. A long rolling swath of well-watered green lawn separated the estate from the concrete jungle.
The skyline rose as the buildings marched toward the center of the city. She guessed she could see more than half the population from the front of Warner’s house.
Not that it was his house anymore. He no longer owned the property, having sold it before he went to trial to pay for his legal representation. He had the best, and he paid for it. For all the good those pricey lawyers did for him.
Whoever had purchased Warner’s house probably knew nothing of the habits of the previous owners, so she parked in front of Warner’s neighbors.
She collected her bag and walked up a long pathway to the front entrance. The door looked as if it were made for a giant, maybe five feet taller than Jess. The door handle was equally large, but it was placed at a height normal human beings could reach.
She pushed the doorbell but heard no noise. Above the button was a dark glass circle. A camera. She smiled.
“Help you?” said a woman’s voice from a speaker above her head.
She looked up. “I’m Jessica Kimball, Taboo Magazine. I’d like to talk with you for a few minutes.”
“Could you look at the camera, and say that again?”
Jess had to force herself to look into the camera, and not turn toward the speaker. “I’m Jessica Kimball, Taboo Magazine. I’d like to talk to you about Karen Warner if you’ve got the time.”
“Now I get it.” The speaker clicked off.
She waited. People were busy. They couldn’t drop everything when a stranger knocked on the door. Jess told herself the same thing every time she made a cold call. It was true, but also served to encourage patience.
The lock clicked, and the door swung open. A plump woman smiled at her. She was maybe mid-fifties with thick glasses. She wore a fashionable dress and flat shoes. She beamed as she held out her hand. “Charlotte Hapsburg.”
Jess shook hands. “Jessica Kimball.”
“You said you were interested in Karen?”
Jess smiled. Bingo. Someone on a first name basis with Karen Warner on the first try. “You knew her?”
Charlotte waved Jess into the house. “Come in, come in.”
She walked into a large entrance hall. A staircase spiraled up one side. Jess’s shoes clicked on a marble floor. “You have a beautiful home.”
Charlotte closed the door and pointed through a wall of glass at the rear of the house. “I’m just having tea. Would you like some?”
“That would be nice.”
Jess followed Charlotte to a massive wooden table and four cushioned chairs on a large outside deck. A large striped awning sheltered the deck from the sun.
There were two pitchers of tea on the table and a single glass. Charlotte sat down in front of the glass. Jess took the seat beside her.
Charlotte pushed a button on a remote control, and a woman stepped outside. Charlotte made an elaborate hand gesture, and the woman disappeared. A moment later she returned with a glass and placed it in front of Jess.
Jess smiled. “Thanks.”
The woman smiled, nodded, and returned to the house.
“Rachel is deaf,” Charlotte said.
“You’re fluent in sign language?”
Charlotte tapped her own ear. “I’m almost deaf, too. So we get along well.”
“Is that why you asked me to look at the camera when I rang the bell?”
Charlotte nodded. “I can hear some, but mainly I lip read.”
She tapped the tea pitchers. “One is jasmine, the other ginger-mint. Though…” she rubbed her forehead. “I don’t remember which is which.”
“No problem.” Jess didn’t expect to enjoy either, so she poured a half-glass from the pitcher closer to her, and lifted it with a smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re interested in Karen,” Charlotte said.
The tea tasted terrible. “You knew her?”
“Oh yes. She would visit sometimes. We would have a laugh.” She nodded to her garden. “We’d sit out here when it wasn’t too hot.”
Jess lifted her glass. “And drink tea?”
Charlotte laughed. “Sometimes she’d go for drinks with a little more kick. Her thing was red wine. She would bring a bottle of something she liked. She wasn’t a drunk or anything. Nothing like that. Don’t get that impression.”
Jess nodded and smiled to encourage her. “Did you testify at the trial?”
“No, dear. The police took a statement, and lawyers for both sides talked to me. Here,” she waved an open palm around the deck, “but they didn’t ask me to testify.” Charlotte looked at her garden.
Jess sat up in her chair. “Did you—”
“She was a nice girl. Always well dressed. Dr. Warner saw to that. He was always buying her things. He was a heart surgeon. I guess they’re pretty well paid.”
She looked at Jess. “And they had a driver. Poor man. He was very nice. Helped me in with my luggage one time. When I returned from Europe.”
“I was—”
“She could drive, of course.” Charlotte leaned close to Jess. “She told me once that she used to go to the race track. Drive cars like that one you’ve got.”
“Really?”
Charlotte stared Jess in the eye. “Apparently, you can hire cars to drive around on some tracks.”
“But she didn’t drive at home?”
Charlotte shook her head. “That’s why they had the driver.”
“Did she have a driver’s license?”
“I’m not sure.” Charlotte shrugged. “That’s not the sort of question you ask, but I guess I got the impression she didn’t have a license.”
“Did you think that was strange?”
“Not really. Like I said, they had a driver. And I don’t think Dr. Warner liked her to go out on her own.”
“Were they having problems in their marriage?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Not that she ever told me. And he was always buying her…oh.”
Jess remained silent.
Charlotte leaned forward. “You don’t think he was having an affair, do you? I don’t want to spre
ad rumors, but that is the sort of thing men do, isn’t it?”
“It’s not out of the question. Did she wear a lot of makeup?”
“Nothing excessive. Why?”
“It covers up bruises.”
Charlotte shook her head. “She wasn’t trying to cover up anything like that. We talked about a lot of things. I would have known.”
“Abuse is not always—”
“In fact, she was always well turned out. Her hair, nails, clothes. She was naturally very attractive. She didn’t have to cover herself in makeup. Sometimes she would wear jeans and a T-shirt and still look like a million dollars.”
“I have an assistant like that.”
“But she would never wear jeans while he was around.”
“Dr. Warner?”
Charlotte nodded. “He was always, well, formal. Very rigid. Never seemed to know how to relax.”
“Were you surprised when she was abducted?”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Shocked. Absolutely. I mean…who wouldn’t be? She was a fun girl. Maybe she was kind of in a straightjacket with Donald, but she knew how to laugh. She was outrageously funny when he wasn’t around, but she seemed to settle down around him.” She took a deep breath. “Perhaps that was a good thing, you know? She seemed like maybe she could be a wild child.” She raised her eyebrows. “Which I think she was in her early years. She gave that impression.”
“Did she ever mention The Devil Kings? Or Hades?”
“Nothing like that. We would talk about all sorts of things, but never that. Most of the things we talked about was just fun stuff. What would you do with a million dollars, which movie star would you want to be marooned with, and so on.”
“Did she ever mention other friends?”
“Most of their friends were his friends. Doctor friends. I don’t think she had many girl friends.”
“Did she have places she would go? Restaurants, bars?”
“He used to take her to Milo’s once a month. Expensive place in the city. I think he liked to show her off. It’s a nice place. You should try it. But she didn’t go out on her own. Or perhaps I should say, she never went without him.”
“She didn’t go anywhere on her own?”
“Well…things like shopping and hairdressers.”
“Where did she get her hair done?”
Charlotte screwed up one side of her face in concentration. She shook her head slowly. “I can’t remember. She said once. I didn’t pay attention. I think it was somewhere on the west side.” She frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Did you notice any change in her behavior in the months before her disappearance?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Can’t say I did.”
“And what about Dr. Warner? Did he seem different at all?”
“I can’t really say. I didn’t see him much. Mostly just driving to and from work. It seemed like that was all he did. No golf or anything.”
“Would you say they were suited for each other?”
“You mean, did they have a good marriage? I think so, but it’s hard to tell, isn’t it? No matter how much you think you know someone, they can always surprise you. It’s what makes life interesting.”
“You can say that again.” Jess smiled. “What about Karen’s sister, Melissa? Did you know her, too?”
Charlotte shook her head. “Goodness no. Karen never mentioned a sister. Not even once.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Tuesday, May 23
Santa Irene, Arizona
When Jess left Charlotte’s house, she tried a few more neighbors but found no one home. Her phone rang as she drove out of the area. Jess pressed the button to answer the call. “Mandy. Got news?”
“Hades and The Devil Kings were easy. I have a ton of stuff, which I’ve just sent your way. Most of it is crime reports. Very few photographs. Norman Kemp has been in jail several times and did a stint in Arizona state prison, but I don’t think the police even know the names of the other members of The Devil Kings.”
“Okay, great. I’ll look at it as soon as I can. Anything on Karen Warner?”
“A whopping great big whole lot more difficult, Jess. Santa Irene isn’t Beverly Hills, but it’s a fairly wealthy community. Which means there’s a ton of places women like Karen Warner can spend money.”
Mandy rarely objected to any request, no matter how difficult it might seem to mere mortals. She must be hitting a brick wall on this one.
Jess thought about it and made a choice. “Let’s focus on fashion boutiques. There are fewer of them, and they pay better attention to their high-end customers. She might have had a personal shopper. She was beautiful, and her neighbor said she was always well dressed.”
Mandy sighed. “I can do that.”
“And check the best hair stylists,” Jess said. “Her hair looked amazing in every photo I saw. Her neighbor thought she went to a place on the west side of the city.”
Mandy hummed. “Yeah, she was a looker for sure, and that sun-bleached look would have to be a once a month thing, at least.”
“Which means she probably had a regular stylist. And stylists are part therapist, anyway. Like a bartender without the alcohol.”
Mandy snorted. “You obviously haven’t been to my place. Their red wine isn’t a spectacular vintage, but it sure makes waiting more pleasant.”
Jess grinned. “Throw Taboo Magazine’s name around. Salons love the chance for publicity. And let me know what you find ASAP.”
“I’m on it.”
Jess found a chain restaurant she knew would have Wi-Fi. There was no way she would be able to read the ton of stuff that Mandy had sent on her phone. She took her laptop with her and headed inside.
A boy who barely looked out of middle school showed Jess to a table. He was halfway through struggling to recite the specials when Jess put him out of his misery and ordered a burger.
The restaurant Wi-Fi was slow. Mandy’s email consumed the waiting time for her food to download. She nudged her laptop to one side when the boy returned with her burger.
The fries were crunchy, and the burger had the fresh, tangy pickles she liked. She nudged the laptop and continued reading the email as she ate.
Hades had a short list of minor crimes on his rap sheet, but a far longer string of suspected crimes reported on the gossip sites that weren’t as concerned with truth as sensation.
The Arizona and New Mexico police forces had been trying to pin crimes on Hades for the better part of ten years. The FBI had been in on the action more than once. He had been inside twice. The first time for a minor offense, and the second time, a three-year robbery sentence.
There was a two-year gap where his crimes, or at least crimes attributed to him, stopped without explanation.
The gap had ended with the Karen Warner kidnapping for ransom and the death of the Warners’ driver during the commission of the felony. Police had traced Hades’ mobile number to a burner phone. The phone went dark again after Karen Warner was taken.
Jess scrolled on through, scanning the email.
Hades and The Devil Kings were suspected of more serious crimes, involving kidnapping and home invasions, but those cases were never proved. Occasionally, he demanded a ransom, but most times, he emptied the victim’s bank account through a string of purchases of easily disposable merchandise.
There were a couple of small, untraceable foreign transactions and speculation that he had a foreign connection. But the sums of money he took didn’t seem to be large enough to attract an international crime ring.
The home invasions always ended the same way. The homeowners were killed, and their houses burned to the ground. Neither Hades nor The Devil Kings were prosecuted for murder. Lack of evidence.
The similarity to Melissa Green’s situation was obvious.
Jess’s laptop chimed. She had a new email from Mandy titled KW salons.
Mandy had included a map with several hair salons, and a place called The Crystal was ringe
d in red.
A note at the bottom of the page said Mrs. Warner had been a client, and her stylist, Luca, was working today. Mandy had included directions.
Jess put the address in her phone, left the waiter a good tip, and headed out to the Mustang.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Tuesday, May 23
Santa Irene, Arizona
Traffic was heavy, but moving. Mandy’s directions were perfect. Jess arrived at the salon without a single wrong turn.
The Crystal was a standalone structure built to serve wealthy clients. It practically oozed money. Everything about it was high-end, edgy. From the rustic stonework to the glass and stainless steel, nothing was ordinary.
Jess surveyed the pictures of models in the windows. Unlike the building, these women sported distinctly traditional hairstyles. Jess smiled. The Crystal’s owners didn’t expect their customers to be cutting the same edges as their architect.
The foyer resembled a large serpentine bend. A low counter arced around the curves. The floor was stained concrete in subdued but pleasing yellows and greens. Spotlights picked out locations along the counter, but there was no sign of anything as gauche as a cash register or even a computer.
A young woman who introduced herself as Ginger appeared magically behind the counter. Jess realized the curved wall hid the entrance to a considerably less stylish staff room.
“Welcome to The Crystal.” Ginger smiled. “Do you have a reservation this morning?”
Jess shook her head. “I’d like to talk to Luca.”
“For a consultation? That’s always a good idea for a new stylist, isn’t it?” Ginger glanced down the serpentine bend. “When would you like to come back? He won’t be able to give you his full attention right now. I think he has a client arriving any moment.”
Jess took out a card and handed it to the girl. “Jess Kimball. I’d like to talk to him about Karen Warner.”
Ginger’s gaze crossed the card twice as if she couldn’t believe what she’d seen the first time. “Taboo?”
